


An Oasis of Being

by HalfshellVenus



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Community: fanfic100, M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-09
Updated: 2006-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-12 22:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7951792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfshellVenus/pseuds/HalfshellVenus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Escape and established-relationship. The brothers find temptation is too much on the road to Utah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Oasis of Being

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday to [](http://tyrical.livejournal.com/profile)[tyrical](http://tyrical.livejournal.com/), who is a joy and inspiration to know! Hope this little interlude with the boys warms your heart, sweet lady. Also for [](http://fanfic100.livejournal.com/profile)[fanfic100](http://fanfic100.livejournal.com/), where I have the slash pairing of Lincoln/Michael. This is for prompt #75, “Shade.”

x-x-x-x-x

They make it as far as Nebraska before they just can’t stand it anymore.

Hours of driving—not too fast, always careful not to do anything that would get noticed—while they put some distance between themselves and Illinois.

Bellick was trapped in a shack, and the car wouldn’t be missing until he got out. And every mile was measured by glances and half-smiles, and fingers tracing along each others’ legs in a teasing reminder of what they’d both waited weeks to finally have.

So few moments together in prison, so little time to touch and to talk, let alone cement the shift in their relationship from brothers to lovers. It had been an agony of lonely panic as the days dwindled down.

Despite all the things that went wrong, they’d escaped in time. And there began the meandering through the unwanted steps of plans B and C, and even D.

They aren’t in Panama now, but they’re on the way to Utah where a fortune awaits them. So many things can be solved by money—whether it’s buying fake passports or just renting a plane to bypass the whole system.

There were a few frantic kisses around corners once they got out, but the rest of the gang was close and tight—there was no chance for privacy or even a moment alone from questions and demands.

Now it’s just the two of them; the others have been cut loose to make it on their own. Lincoln and Michael are flying down the road in Bellick’s bomber of a ride, and thinking about what they’d be doing if they weren’t running from the law.

Michael watches Lincoln drive. Sometimes his brother is relaxed and easy behind the wheel, and other times a burst of energy creeps in and Lincoln bounces and shifts in his seat. Right now, Lincoln is restless. He rocks loosely in time to the music from the radio—an oldies station playing an Eric Clapton song that is pure sex, a stoner’s wet dream of rutting through a high. The sound of it, from the insinuating guitars down through the underlying thrust of the notes, gets inside Michael as Lincoln’s muscles strain toward the ideas in the song.

And suddenly that scorching kiss at the crossroads this morning isn’t going to last them. Michael’s dying to slide on over and start playing with Lincoln’s zipper, and he knows that’s too dangerous to even _contemplate_ so long as they’re still moving. The words of the music swell through the car, filling Michael’s head:

_I’ve been waiting so long… to be where I’m go-ing…_

It’s the song-- or the heat-- that’s doing it to him. “Pull over up ahead.” Michael’s voice is only a little bit shaky.

“Huh?” Lincoln can’t quite hear him over the crunchy chords jutting out of the music.

“Pull over,” Michael says louder. “Behind that grove of trees.”

Lincoln slows the car, and eases off onto a dirt road that veers behind a clump of birches leaning overhead.

“This good?” Lincoln asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Michael says heavily. He throws the seatbelt off hastily and moves in closer, reaching for his brother with greedy hands. Lincoln is startled for a moment, but Michael’s kiss is heat and honey, made desperate by all the waiting they’ve had to endure.

“Mmmmm,” Lincoln moans into Michael’s mouth. The memory of stolen kisses is still fresh, the thrill of something taboo coiling down inside his groin and making him _hard_. God he just _wants_ —wants Michael, wants it now. Urgent, sloppy, shameless-- he doesn’t care.

Michael’s hand steals into Lincoln’s lap, but Lincoln pushes it away before he winds up ruining his only pair of pants. “Too close,” he says.

“Already? Mmmm—impatient.” Michael’s incredibly pleased by that. He still worries that Lincoln’s far less into this than he is. He leans in again, unable to resist Lincoln’s mouth. He’d never expected to find that combination of soft lips bordered by beard sexy, but it’s so Lincoln that the sensation just ratchets him up. Everything about Lincoln sets him off—always has, though he’d tried to deny it for years. Michael runs his hands across Lincoln’s broad shoulders, down those muscled arms. Lincoln responds by pulling the edge of Michael’s dress shirt out of his pants and slipping his fingers inside to brush the silky skin of Michael’s belly.

Michael’s breath hitches at that touch, and he angles his head and kisses deeper into Lincoln as if he could get all the way down inside him and stay there forever. He reaches again for Lincoln’s zipper, but Lincoln pulls back and says “Outside” in a low, husky voice that tickles from Michael’s ear straight down to his cock.

Michael opens the door and edges out of it, and Lincoln pulls him back against the car as soon as Michael stands up. Lincoln unbuttons Michael’s shirt and nuzzles and sucks on the skin there while his hands open Michael’s pants and push everything down. Michael gasps as Lincoln closes around him, the soft, moist heat of it making him sag against the roof of the car. Lincoln takes him in deeper, his movements lost in a cloud of sensuality as he clamps his hands around Michael’s hips and holds him firmly, drawing whimpers and groans from his brother under the cooling shade of the trees.

Michael’s leaning on the car, struggling to stay upright, and Lincoln reaches around and brushes Michael’s opening with his fingers while his tongue flicks on the upswing of every pull. _It’s too much, it’s-- God, it’s--_ “Linc—Oh!” Michael shudders and nearly falls as he comes, and Lincoln yanks him in tighter and sucks him down in an orgy of heat and perfect pressure. Lincoln’s low-pitched groan tingles all across Michael as his brother revels in his ability to make him completely fall apart.

Lincoln finally releases Michael’s cock, pulling off slow and wet with a flourish of his tongue over the tip. A breeze stirs, and the sudden sweep of air over his skin makes Michael quiver. He looks down into the car, where Lincoln grins up at him in triumph. “What about—what were—“

“Oh, I’m taking my turn,” Lincoln says. He pushes Michael back a little and eases out around him, turning him in toward a long, slow kiss. Michael finds that he likes the taste of himself, now that he’s gotten used to it. It makes him think of how _Lincoln_ tastes, and he’s almost embarrassed by how much he craves that now. Thoughts of pushing Lincoln down into the car and sucking him off overtake him, and the area under his stomach begins to burn with the heat of longing.

Michael strokes his hand down and over Lincoln’s erection, squeezing him through the stiff fabric of his jeans to keep him from coming. Lincoln breathes in sharply, bucking up against Michael while at the same time trying to hold his hand still. Lincoln leans himself back slightly and undoes his pants, letting them fall in a heap around his ankles. He’s naked underneath them, and Michael bites his lip at the sight of it, at the thought of Lincoln having been _ready_ all this time.

Lincoln pulls Michael in close, snaking an arm around Michael’s waist to caress and cup the tight muscles of his ass. They shift against each other, Lincoln leaking across the heat of Michael’s stomach as he rubs against him and tongues Michael in time to his thrusts. The feeling of Michael in his arms is both so delicious and forbidden that Lincoln can hardly stand it—he wants to hold, fuck and _bite_ Michael all at the same time. He kisses Michael one last time and then turns him around to lean across the hood of the car, positioning himself behind his brother.

Such a tantalizing picture—Michael half-spent with pleasure and his ass just waiting to be taken. Lincoln runs his hands over Michael’s back, his waist and hips, just admiring the feel of him under his touch. Lincoln moistens his own fingers while he strokes Michael’s ass with his other hand, and Michael wriggles against the car in response.

Sliding first one finger and then a second inside the tight, velvet heat of his brother, Lincoln stretches and massages Michael as he leans down to lick a stripe to the left of Michael’s spine. A teasing slide of his left hand around to the front shows that Michael is interested all over again. Lincoln gives his brother a long, slow pull, and then spreads saliva and precum over himself generously. He finds his place carefully, and then eases himself on in until he is flush against his brother and shaking from the effort to hold off just a little bit longer.

Slowly, slowly Lincoln moves in and then out again. It is so gloriously lazy in this respite from the heat of the dusty highway. Lincoln’s unhurried movements merge with a cool swirling of wind, there in the secret shelter of the trees.

Faster and deeper he goes, and Michael cants his hips backward and pushes back in time with Lincoln’s thrusts. The rhythm becomes jagged, frantic/urgent, and Lincoln reaches around and takes Michael’s cock firmly in his hand. He rubs up the shaft and twists his thumb up under the tip until Michael moans helplessly, brokenly, and comes in spurts all over the hood of the car.

That slick heat in his hand—and his brother’s wrenched-out ecstasy-- severs the last little shred of Lincoln’s resolve. He shoves harder and more unevenly into Michael, with the tightness so unbearable _wonderful_ , and then he spills out inside him in an agony of bliss. God, it’s good… _so_ good, and he can’t stop, can’t let the moment end. But it does, gradually slipping away as always. Lincoln lessens the pace as the sharpness fades and the climax rides out its end.

Soon it’s over, and Lincoln is no longer sheathed in the sweet secrecy of Michael’s flesh. He breathes in the scent of some distant meadow, and gives into the relaxation that steals so peacefully through this place.

He leans down and kisses Michael’s shoulder through the shirt, laying his face along Michael’s back and wrapping his arms around him tightly. They rest there, across the cooling metal of the car, and a gentle glide of air scatters across Lincoln’s back as a breeze blows past.

 

\------ fin ------  



End file.
